Rahgol Du Krosis
by ConArtist 24-7
Summary: Suchende never expected the two remaining Blades to kill Paarthurnax when he refused, and he leaves them behind as he runs from his rage. But, when Alduin rears his head, will the Altmer be able to forgive them for the sake of Skyrim?  Off storyline-ish


Suchende clasps his hands on either side of his head, white hot tears pouring from orange eyes. 'It had to be done…' Delphine's word echoed through his head, hurting more than any blade, poison, or spell. Bother her and Esbern stood in front of his grief crumpled form. 'It had to be done…'

"N-no…" How they had managed to bait Paarthurnax off his perch from high upon the mountain did not seem important to Suchende, not in the slightest. What mattered was how he had no made it in time. What mattered was that the old dragon had refused help from the Greybeards. What mattered was that, as the horrified Altmer knelt there, Paarthurnax's soul flowed into his body.

'This wasn't supposed to happen!' he screamed mentally, unable to find his voice to screech his pain to the world. He had refused to kill the old dragon, who had almost become a close friend in an odd sort of way.

Arngeir and the other three members of his order stood a few feet behind the Dragonborn, fighting the rising need to Shout the two blades into pieces.

"Suchende," Esbern spoke, voice patronizing, as if he was simply talking to a child who had merely lost his favorite toy. "He deserved to be punished."

"W-what!" the tall elf hissed, suddenly all his sadness turned to anger. "How dare you!" He stood to his full height, a good five inches taller than either of them. Long, dull gold hair whipped as wind swirled through the courtyard. "He repented! He helped me, us!"

"He killed thousands!" Snarled Delphine, pointing her bloodstained sword at the skeletal remains of Paarthurnax. "So killing him made it all better? Is that it?" Suchende laughed, something so sarcastic and hollow it made the already freezing temperatures seem to grow colder. "So, by your standards," the High Elf forward. "I should kill you. How many High Elves did you kill all those years ago? Oh, bandits! How many of them? They were living creatures too!"

"Dovahkiin…" the ground shook slightly as one of the normally silent Greybeards spoke. It was enough to momentarily stop the frantic elf, whose voice got higher and higher as he spoke. "That is not the same, and you know it!" Shouted the woman, clenching her teeth. "Oh, but it is! He killed, you killed, Paarthurnax killed, I killed! So, what right do you have to pass justice on him?" Silence became crushing, the only noise heard was the howling of the icy winds.

-x-

"_Rahgol du krosis. Rage devours sorrow, Dovahkiin. I am sure you have seen such in your travels." The dragon looked down at the gold skinned elf, who sat near the peaks edge, looking down over Skyrim. "I suppose… I've seen so much anger and sadness I've just stopped noticing how one bleeds into another…" Shifting and using an arm to shield his eyes from the sun, Suchende sighed. It was a pleasant day up on the Throat of the World, his shout leaving no clouds or hash snow fall. "But, if you don't mind me asking, what made you ask that?" Paarthurnax chuckled, tilting his massive head to the ever stretching sky. "Kiir, have you ever felt that. A sadness so cold it burns with fire?" Resisting the urge to grumble about his own question not being answered, the Altmer shut his eyes in thought. "…No… I don't think I have…"_

"_Kogaan, a blessing, for you. But… it will not last." The ancient reptile looked sadly down at the only being he had spoken to for centuries, who only gave him a puzzled look. "Master?" _

_Paarthurnax shook his head, signaling that the current conversation was to end there._

_-x-_

Suchende bit his lower lip as that memory filled his head. 'Had… Had he foreseen this…?' The elf stared at the two Blades in front of him for a long moment, then to the remains of his ancient friend, his teacher, his master. With a shutter intake of freezing air, Suchende turned without a word, and made his way inside. His armor, made from dragon bones and scales, suddenly felt too heavy and, to him, reeked of death. His pointed ears twitched at the tips when he heard someone, maybe more than just one person, call to him. But he did not stop; he walked faster, then jogged, then sprinted. He wanted far away from all of it, from the Blades, the Greybeards, and the lifeless bones of Paarthurnax.


End file.
